


breaking you down (and putting you back together)

by ghostfaeries



Series: mending [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Autistic Tim Drake, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Injuries, POV Tim Drake, Platonic Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles, THE BEST, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake-centric, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Tim Drake, Trans Tim Drake, theres like tiny hints to it but nothing big
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostfaeries/pseuds/ghostfaeries
Summary: So this is what a hug felt like. Tim had forgotten the feeling.Or: Tim is not fine and Dick notices
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: mending [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836973
Comments: 18
Kudos: 378





	breaking you down (and putting you back together)

**Author's Note:**

> I am here with a... sequel? It's not really a sequel ig, it's more of a retelling. This is the events of a little broken but in Tim's pov. I started this only because I wanted to write the hug from Tim's perspective because I'm projecting ✌  
> I recycled some of the dialogue but have done my best to show Tim's train of thought and there's an additional scene with Bruce at the end so I hope it's good  
> Oh, I changed the name of the series btw, it used to be healing. And thank you to the people who bookmarked it I appreciate it <3  
> That said, it is recommended to anyone who just happened to stumble across this to read the first part in this series before this one, just for some more context and cause I omitted a few paragraphs toward the end so it wouldn't become repetitive, though I'm not the boss of you and you can do what you want, your choice
> 
> Content warnings: mention of neglect and touch starvation by the Drakes, same as in the previous fic
> 
> DISCLAIMER: please do not interact with this fic in any way if you ship Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, Damian or Duke with each other as this makes me very uncomfortable as someone with siblings, thank you
> 
> Enjoy <3

Tim really should have known better. _Of course_ Dick would notice his injury when he fucking _jumped on his sprained ankle._ Stupid. Dick wasn’t supposed to know. No one was. Alfred would maybe have noticed, but he wasn’t in the cave right now and Tim had been planning on sneaking back to his house before he came down anyway. No one had to know. He was _fine_. 

Dick thought otherwise, apparently. 

“Fine? You’ve got a sprained ankle! That’s not fine, Tim!” 

Tim flinched. He really didn’t like it when adults shouted. Shouting meant he’d done something wrong, and doing something wrong meant punishment. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.” 

And he _would_ do better next time, either making sure not to get injured, or hiding it even better. Whichever came first. 

He’d been expecting to be done with it after that. His parents would usually be satisfied with that. But Dick didn’t leave and didn’t stop talking. 

“Tim,” He said, voice so gentle Tim could cry. His name was said so lovingly. There was no anger shining through, no annoyance or disdain. Just... gentleness. “I’m not mad at you.” 

Tim tensed. He hadn’t been expecting that. “You’re not?” 

He thought... But, well, he supposed Dick had always been different from his parents. Dick actually seemed to _see him,_ for one. His parents looked at him, sure. But they didn’t actually _see him_. 

Dick continued. “I’m not. Can you look at me, please?” 

Tim didn’t like looking at people. It hurt, sometimes. It was easier with Dick, though. Dick never forced him to make eye contact, seemed content to let Tim’s gaze stray to anywhere that wasn’t Dick’s eyes while they talked. Like he knew Tim was still paying attention, despite Tim fiddling with whatever he was currently holding in his hands. He was nice that way, even though Tim had never told him this particular bit of information. 

Tim raised his head slightly, gaze fixed on the wall behind Dick. He hoped Dick would still be okay with him avoiding his eyes. 

“Tim. I – or B or Alfie for that matter – won't ever get mad at you for getting injured. We’re just worried about you, so please tell us when you get injured so we can help you.” 

Tim did look Dick in the eye, then. He needed to assess if Dick was speaking the truth. He didn’t think Dick would lie to him, he’d never done that before, but he needed to make sure. And, just to really _really_ be sure, “Promise?” 

Dick grinned. “Promise. I’ll even pinky swear on it.” 

Tim smiled. If Dick was willing to do _that_ , Tim could believe his words. Everyone knew pinky swears were sacred. “I’ve never done a pinky swear.” 

Dick’s eyebrows shot up, and he quickly said, “Well, guess I gotta be your first then.” 

Tim smiled widely. 

“Come on,” Dick said, after they shook on it, standing up. “I’ll carry you to the med bay so we can get some ice on that ankle of yours.” 

“I can walk!” Tim protested. He didn’t want to be a bother. He was fine. 

“Nuh uh, mister,” Dick said, and before Tim could even blink, Dick had picked him up and he was being carried to the med bay. Tim knew struggling would be useless, Dick was stronger than him. And besides, he was kind of enjoying being carried. 

Dick set him down on one of the cots and got him an ice pack. He sat down next to him and put Tim’s injured leg on his lap, holding the ice against his ankle. They sat for a while and talked. Tim told Dick about the case he was currently working on while Dick entertained him with stories about the Titans’ shenanigans. 

Tim pretended not to be tired, suppressing a yawn a few times. He wanted to wait until Bruce was back, just in case. 

* * *

Tim roused when a hand touched his shoulder. 

“Huh?” 

Where was he- Oh, right, the med bay of the cave. He’d fallen asleep, apparently. 

“Bedtime, Babybird.” Dick’s smile was almost so nice Tim would have done whatever he wanted, were it not for Bruce still being out there. 

“I wanna wait for Bruce,” Tim said. (Said, not whined, whatever anyone might think. He was Robin and _mature,_ thank you very much.) 

“I know, kiddo, but he wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your sleep for him.” 

“Well then he’s a fucking hypocrite.” Bruce constantly stayed awake for way too long. Last week he hadn’t slept in three days because he was working on a case. He only went to bed because Alfred had threatened to sedate him. 

“Language, but you’re right. I won’t tell Alfred you said that if you go to bed now.” 

Tim’s eyes widened. Alfred really couldn’t know he’d cursed. Alfred was scary. He was the real boss of the house, not Bruce, although the man liked to believe he had any sway. He totally didn’t. People listened to their dad, so Dick and Tim listened to Bruce and Bruce to Alfred. Not that Bruce was Tim’s dad. Of course not. He already had a dad. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going, don’t tell Alfred. I’m running out of swear jar money.” 

Still, he hesitated. 

Dick noticed. “What is it, Tim?” 

“Can I stay here? I’ll sleep, I promise,” He added when Dick opened his mouth to say no. “I just want to be here when Bruce gets back.” He gave Dick his best puppy dog eyes. He’d been practicing them for some time. He hoped it would pay off. “Please, Dick?” 

“Fine.” 

Tim threw his arms up in the air and started cheering. It had worked! All that time in front of the mirror had been worth it! 

“ _But_ ,” Dick said, because _of course_ there were conditions. “You’re immediately going to your room when Bruce gets here. And if you fall asleep before he comes home, I’m not waking you up to greet him, okay? You need all the sleep you can get.” 

Tim pouted, but supposed this was a good compromise. Dick got a blanket and a pillow and laid them on the cot in an attempt to make it more comfortable. 

“Uh, Tim? You’re still wearing your domino.” 

Tim’s hands flew to his face. “Oh. I guess I am.” 

If Dick hadn’t said anything, he probably wouldn’t have noticed until he looked in a mirror some time tomorrow. (Or today? It was past midnight, so it would technically be the same day. Whatever. Time is fake.) He was just as comfortable in mask as out, sometimes even more. He could allow himself to be true, to go without restrictions or expectations. With the mask, as Robin, he could be free in a way Tim Drake couldn’t. 

He tried to peel off the mask, but his fingers felt clumsy and he couldn’t get a good grasp on it. 

Dick took pity on him. “Here, let me help.” 

Dick carefully removed the mask from his face. His fingers brushed Tim’s bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth on his cheeks long after they were gone. 

“Time for bed, buddy. You’ve pushed it off enough as I- what's that?” 

Tim didn’t understand what Dick was referring to until he reached out and carefully traced the scar under his right eye. 

“Where did you get this from? It looks too old to be from being Robin, but rather big for a normal childhood scar.” 

Tim blinked hazily as he tried to recall his memories from that particular incident. His eyes cleared up when he remembered. 

“Oh! It’s from the first night I followed you and Bruce. I didn’t see where I was going and tripped over a loose brick and fell. It’s fine, it wasn’t a big cut.” 

“You what?” Dick exclaimed. “You followed me and B on patrol?” 

Tim nodded enthusiastically, happy to talk about a topic he enjoyed. “Yeah! Didn’t you know? I, um...” He hadn’t thought he’d ever tell anyone this. His photography had always been just between him and his camera, even before Batman and Robin “You know how I figured out your identities when I was nine?” Dick nodded. “I... used to take pictures of you two.” Dick’s expression was comical, his brows nearly in his hairline and his eyes as big as saucers. Tim would have laughed were he more awake. “And after that, when you became Nightwing, of Bruce and-” 

He fell silent, not wanting to utter that name. It felt disrespectful, somehow, to talk about the boy he was filling in for. 

“Yeah,” He finished.

They stayed silent for a while, Tim cursing himself for bringing back memories of the brother Dick had lost. Dick’s hand was still resting on his cheek, its warmth spreading through Tim’s body until it reached his chest. 

“Timmy? You good?” 

Tim’s eyes snapped open and he quickly snapped his head away from Dick’s hand. “Sorry! I just, it’s just- I'm-” He tripped over his words, barely comprehensible. He hadn’t realised he’d been leaning towards Dick’s hand. 

“Breathe, Tim.” 

Tim did a breathing exercise he’d learned from Bruce. Once he got his lungs under control, he spoke. “Sorry, the touch was just... nice. It’s been a while.” 

“Tim,” Dick said, saying Tim’s name in a peculiar way, though Tim couldn’t figure out what was off about it. “When was the last time you had a hug?” 

Tim scanned his memories, searching for times he’d been hugged. He realised it was a long time ago, and shrugged. 

“Not sure,” He said. “Hmm, let’s see. I think the last time was halfway through elementary school? Maybe before that. Hard to say, I don’t exactly keep track. A couple years I’d say, at least. Mom and dad don’t really touch me while they’re in Gotham. I don’t think they like me much.” 

His parents liked the idea of him, the Tim they’d built up in their minds. The good daughter. The perfect heir. Not the real him. Not who he actually was. They didn’t care about that. 

“Oh, Timmy.” Dick’s voice was wobbly for some reason. Tim didn’t get the big deal. It was just a hug. Just touch. So what if the most physical contact he got was with the criminals he fought each night, and even then it wasn’t even skin contact because he wore gauntlets? So fucking what? That was normal. That was completely normal. 

...right? 

Dick’s sad, sad gaze was telling him otherwise. Tim trusted Dick. He was Nightwing. He was Robin. He was his big brother. Dick wouldn’t lie to him. 

“Come here, buddy.” Dick opened his arms. Tim cocked his head in confusion. What did he want from him? 

When Tim didn’t do whatever Dick had wanted him to, Dick seemed to take matters into his own hands, and scooped Tim up in his arms. Tim tensed at the unfamiliar feeling of arms wrapped around him, but quickly relaxed allowed himself to be hugged by Dick, by his big brother, and- oh. 

So this is what a hug felt like. Tim had forgotten the feeling. 

Dick’s body was warm against his, the warmth traveling through Tim’s skin until it had ignited his entire being. It enveloped him in the tactile equivalent of a glow, warm and soothing, an unfamiliar feeling but comforting nonetheless. It felt like he could never be cold again, the chill chased away by the ray of light that was Dick Grayson. 

He hadn’t realised how much he’d been craving this until he got it. His skin had been buzzing with want for so long, he’d gotten desensitized to it. Ignoring it had become easy. 

Dick’s arms were encasing him, his larger body dwarfing Tim’s small form. He should feel trapped, engulfed as he was but Tim just felt safe in the embrace. He knew Dick would never let anything happen to him. Dick would protect him. From their enemies, from the world, from himself. 

And Tim let himself cry, he let himself cry, for the first time in years. He thought his tear ducts had dried up long ago, his eyes seemingly never willing to let himself go. Perhaps it was a result from his upbringing, where crying had always just earned him a sneer, a scolding, a reprimand. 

_“Crying is for little kids, Timothy, and you aren’t a little kid anymore, are you now?”_

But he was. Tim was still a kid, back then and right now, at thirteen. He realised that now. He was still a kid and that was okay. He could cry. 

He had a brother now. He would be okay. 

* * *

Tim awoke when he heard the rustle of fabric near his head. His eyes shot open and he tried to sit up, but failed. He was being held down by something. He panicked for a second, until he realised it was just Dick holding him close. 

A dark shape was standing beside the cot they were laying on. Bruce. 

Bruce seemed to notice Tim was awake, because he put a finger to his lips as he gestured to Dick’s still asleep form. 

“Sorry I woke you up, kiddo,” He whispered. “I just came to check you two for injuries.” 

“I’m okay,” Tim reassured him. “Just a sprained ankle. Dick took care of me.” 

Bruce smiled, near invisibly so, just a crinkle of his eyes, but it had the same effect as a bright, toothy grin on anyone else’s face would have. “I’m glad you have each other.” 

“What about you?” Tim inquired. “Did you get hurt?” 

Bruce’s smile stayed in place. “Just a couple of bruises, nothing major. Thank you for your concern, though you should aim more of that towards yourself.” 

When Tim looked shocked, because how did he know, Bruce chuckled quietly. 

“Oh, I know all about your bad habits. I’m Batman, remember?” He stroked Tim’s hair, a soft gesture, intended just to soothe the both of them, not for any practical purpose. “I need you to take care of yourself, sweetheart. Please tell someone when you’re injured. You’re not alone anymore, okay? Don’t be afraid to ask for help. We’ll always be happy to provide it.” 

Tim blinked a few times, willing the tears that were suddenly burning behind his eyes to go away. He couldn’t get his tongue to form words, so he just nodded. Bruce seemed to understand. 

“I’ll let you two sleep now. I know from experience it’s no use trying to move Dick without waking him up, so I’ll let him stay here. I’m assuming you want to stay with him?” When Tim nodded, Bruce’s smile became ever so brighter. “Thought so.” 

Bruce pressed a kiss to the top of Tim’s head, then repeated the action with Dick. Dick stirred slightly at the feeling, but didn’t wake up, just smiled in his sleep and mumbled something intelligible, tightening his hold on Tim like he was a teddy bear. 

“Love you, Tim. Love you too, sunshine. Get some sleep. Goodnight.” 

Bruce covered them with the blanket, which had shifted when Tim had tried to sit up. He gave Tim one last hair ruffle and disappeared into the dark again. 

Tim nestled his head against his brother’s chest and slept. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might write something else for this, though I'm not sure if and when I'll finish that. I'm working on multiple wips at the same time and I've got other stuff going on so I can be a bit slow, but we'll see. I'll keep this series unfinished as of now.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> My DC blog: autistic-damian-wayne


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